


A Duty to Oneself

by TripleX_Tyrant



Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: Drama, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, mortycest - Freeform, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripleX_Tyrant/pseuds/TripleX_Tyrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rick finds a new Morty to put the rest of his team to shame, his original Morty feels his first distaste for a fellow Morty. Despite the Morty Manipulator Chip, this Guard Morty carries a burden left by his original Rick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fic using my Pocket Mortys party, and I love the contrast of an original Morty paired with a Guard Morty. Since I was already shipping them in my head while playing, I decided to write something with them to explore their characters. I'm thinking this will conclude in two chapters, so I hope you enjoy this first half.

Morty Smith of Earth dimension C290 had seen a lot of weird other-dimension versions of himself. He'd seen three-eyed, skeletal, and even a sausage-shaped Morty. Hell, there was a gooey-pink Morty and a shadowy Morty floating around with him right now, as well as a merboy and a Morty who wouldn't be much different from himself if he'd put all those damn cats down (if C290 were going to carry any animal, it'd be a dog, who wouldn't claw you and who probably has a soul and definitely has a little personality). The point is, Morty had seen a lot of different Mortys, so it really shouldn't have surprised him to see a Morty in a Council uniform running around.

“What's a Council guard doing in the wild?” Morty asked, and he could see that Rick was practically salivating at the sight of a new, rare Morty.

“Attack, Morty!” Rick yelled, shoving Mermaid Morty forward. With a little whine, Mer-Morty sped forward, his water-secreting body propelling him like an elegant slug, if such a thing could exist. Rick replied to his original Morty's question, saying, “Obviously the Rick guard he worked for either died or abandoned him.”

Morty crossed his arms. “Typical Rick.”

“Whatever. At least give this Rick a little credit. I'm one of the nice ones,” he said, then pulled the heavy duty staple gun from his coat pocket. With a wild grin, he moved forward and shoved the nearly dazed Guard Morty to the ground. The Guard Morty snapped and growled at Rick, feisty for a Morty but not nearly strong enough to fend for himself. Rick got the staple gun to the Morty's hairline and the loud CLICK echoed in the purple field.

At the first beep of the chip, Guard Morty's hand shot to his head. When he felt the chip, his shocked eyes snapped up at Rick with hate, his fingers pinching at the tiny edges in desperation. Morty held his breath. They'd never seen a Morty try to pry the chip out, and he worried what would happen if he did. With the next two beeps of the chip, Guard Morty's fingers scratched and skidded over the sleek plastic until the red light blinked to green. His arm became slack, falling away as his eyes glazed over. Before he could so much as blink at his new consciousness, the chip teleported him to Morty Daycare. (No more than five Mortys in a party. Them's the rules of the game, the Ricks decided.)

“Alriiight!” Rick cheered, giving Mermaid Morty a companionable slap on his wet back. “You know what this means, Morty?” he asked with no distinction of which Morty he was talking to. “We have a Morty on our team with actual military training. Just wait till we throw him at the Council, give them a piece of their own poison. Shove that in their... smug fucking faces.”

“Yeah, and more importantly,” Morty reminded, “get your portal gun back so we can go home. A-and put this whole thing behind us.”

“S-sure, yeah, that too. Let's hurry it up. I wanna get my new Guard Morty out of storage and take him for a spin, baby!”

When they finished off the Rick of that dimension and returned to the Citadel, Test X72 Morty was nearly in tears and Mermaid Morty was shivering with disdain for Rick's ridicule. In a way, Morty considered himself lucky that he wasn't as good a fighter as these other Mortys, since it meant that he rarely had to fight now. Still eager, Rick made the trip to the Healing Center a short one and rushed to the Daycare.

“Me? Aw man,” Crazy Cat Morty said, his eyes falling to the ground, his pursed lips and the way he pulled the cats in his arms to his cheeks hiding nothing from the other Mortys. They all understood the feeling of being unneeded and dumped in the Daycare. Well, all aside from C290 Morty. Rick had never dumped him in there, but Morty still empathized with his brethren. With the humiliation of not being good enough.

“Hey,” Rick said to the Daycare Rick. “And while you're at it, bring me my Guard Morty.”

Daycare Rick had a firm hand on Crazy Cat Morty's hunched shoulder. He brought the toothpick in his mouth from one corner to the other, clacking it against his crooked lower teeth. “Oh yeah, that one. That's one Hell of a rare one, I'll tell ya. Can't imagine how or why these council babies get lost out there, but they do.”

“Hah, well Council-raised is what I'm gonna use to hand those idiots their asses back to 'em.”

“Sure, Rick,” Daycare Rick said, leading Morty and his cats away to the back.

Morty found himself raising on tip-toes to peek down the hall at the back of the Daycare. A moment later, Daycare Rick became visible, now with the uniformed Morty marching behind him. Daycare Rick opened the side door and motioned for the guard. Guard Morty nodded and stepped out, looked at Rick, and said, “Are you the Rick I've been assigned to?”

Morty was surprised by this. Every Morty he'd seen Rick chip had simply assumed that they were Rick's from the start. Rick, however, didn't seem to care about this uniqueness, saying, “Yeah, and you're gonna kick some ass for me.”

Guard Morty scanned the rest of the party, and Morty tensed when their eyes met. Coolly, Guard Morty's gaze returned to Rick. “Yes sir.”

Rick hummed. “Some Mortys could learn a thing or two from your attitude.”

“R-r-really?” Guard Morty said, his eyes widening.

“Just remember you're duty is to listen to me and do everything I say, and to beat the other guy up before he beats you up. Actually, make that to beat the other guy up even if he beats you up.”

Morty rolled his eyes. “Jeez, Rick. Y-you can't seriously think that's motivating.”

“Yes sir. I understand,” Guard Morty said, his neck strained to look up at Rick.

Rick gave Morty a smug smirk, and Morty shook his head.

Once they were back out in the wild, the party watched as Rick sent Guard Morty in at every encounter they made. He'd shout “Do it, Morty!” and Guard Morty did it. Hard. C290 Morty had never seen a Morty so eager to fight. To charge in so readily and with such a flame in his eyes. Guard Morty was brutal, and Rick was eating it up. “Yeah, Morty!” he would cheer, and Morty couldn't deny that it was a little unfair that Rick had never cheered for him so much. Never congratulated him for his contributions to the team.

Rick found a pub in their current dimension: a little stone building where the tables and bar all looked to be carved from the same giant block. He led the boys to a booth and ordered burgers and cola, mixing his own with the house liquor, in celebration of their new addition. Morty was shoved against the wall with the guard beside him and Rick on the edge. When the waitress placed the baskets on the table, Guard Morty looked up at Rick, eye black and cheek swollen from being the only one doing any real fighting that day, and said, “Th-thanks, Rick. This is really great.”

“You haven't even eaten it yet,” Morty said. His tone was, as Rick had called it in the past, bitchy.

“I just meant for ordering for us at all,” Guard Morty explained. He looked to Rick again. “I appreciate it.”

Rick picked a sesame seed off his bun. “Consider it a pre-celebration for when we destroy those smug Council Ricks.” He tossed the seed, and it bounced off Morty's forehead. “And yeah, learn to be appreciative. You little… little shit.”

Morty huffed and stuffed his mouth while Rick blabbed with the other Mortys. Guard Morty also ate in stock-still silence. Morty didn't expect such silence from the suck up. When they left the pub, Morty let the others walk ahead and grabbed Guard Morty by the wrist. Guard Morty turned and slipped his arm out of Morty's grasp, gripping onto his wrist instead and twisting it. Morty yelped, and Guard Morty released him.

“S-sorry, Morty,” he said quickly. “I didn't mean to. Y-you just caught me off guard.”

“Damn,” Morty said, rubbing his wrist. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Why? W-what about?”

Telling the guard to stop being a kiss-ass had seemed like a good idea in Morty's mind, but now he didn't quite know what to say. So instead he said, “Uh… You know Rick is just using us. You don't have to take fighting so seriously.”

Guard Morty scowled. It was one of those looks that made Morty feel guilty without explanation. “W-we were assigned to this Rick. If he tells us to fight, well then that's what I'm gonna do.”

“Hey, I wasn't assigned to anyone,” Morty said, a part of him wondering if he should. “I was Rick's original Morty. H-he's really my grandpa. From my dimension.”

“Then clearly you weren't capable enough.”

There was a cold, uncomfortable silence between them. Even Guard Morty felt awkward for his words. In that way, he was still like so many Mortys, afraid of the impression he'd leave. Finally, Morty started walking toward the group, and Guard Morty followed a ways behind. A terrifying thought came to Morty's mind, and he touched his fingers to one temple, then the other. There was no chip. He really was Rick's original Morty.

 

It wasn't much longer before they returned to the Citadel, turning in for the night at the hotel Rick had been complaining about since he lost the portal gun. In truth, the establishment was very nice. Much nicer than his room back home. Out of everything, the hotel was the one thing Morty actually enjoyed, but Rick wouldn't hear it. For the past few days, their sleeping arrangement had been convenient enough. Rick took the master bedroom while Morty took the pullout couch bed in the living room. Mermaid Morty slept in the bathtub, Test X72 in a closet, and Shadow Morty floated about on the balcony. If there was one thing all Mortys seemed to agree on, it was that they liked their privacy after a long day. Even Crazy Cat Morty had preferred curling up in the hallway with his cats. But not Guard Morty.

“Morty, he's sleeping on the couch bed with you. Now shut up about it and let me go to sleep.”

“But Rick!”

“That's not shutting up. Th-th-that's annoying me with your bullshit.”

And so the sleeping arrangement was fixed. Morty had plopped onto his side, the blanket pulled up over his shoulder, his back to Guard Morty. Guard Morty looked much more like any other Morty once he stripped down to just his shirt and underwear. He turned off the lights and slipped under the blanket beside Morty, staring at the dark ceiling.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?” Morty asked.

“For… what I said about you not being capable. Y-y'know, if your Rick didn't want you, he could abandon you. But you're still here, so you must be doing something right.”

Morty remembered what Rick had said when they first saw Guard Morty in the wild. That his Rick was either dead, or he abandoned his Morty. Morty rolled onto his back, turning his head to look at Guard Morty. “Is that… Is that what happened to you?”

“Yeah.”

Morty's heart ached. He couldn't imagine his Rick abandoning him. Or rather, he couldn't for very long before the thought became too depressing. “You remember your original Rick?”

Guard Morty turned his head to Morty. “Why wouldn't I?”

Morty rolled away. “No reason,” he said, feeling around his hair line again. No chips.

“I'll be good this time,” Guard Morty said.

“Huh?”

“This time, Rick won't want to get rid of me.”

Morty felt a heavy weight come over him, and he swallowed hard. “So your Rick… He what? J-just left you in the wild?”

“I….” Guard Morty shook with a chill. “A-and then I got assigned to your Rick.”

Morty replied with a soft, “Oh.”

 

*~*~*

 

“And not only does he know you're not his original Rick,” Morty said, walking with Rick back to the hotel, carrying a plastic bag of bottled milks and orange juices, “but he remembers his original Rick. I-I don't think he remembers everything though.”

Rick held a stack of foam food boxes containing his and his Mortys' breakfast. He had listened to Morty's explanation intently. “He did say he was assigned to me. The chips must react to some Mortys differently.”

“But why?”

“How should I know? Listen Morty, d-don't be talking to him about his past. I don't want you compromising the chip's hold on him. If something you say makes him remember what separated him from his Rick, or anything about his time in the wild, he might blow the chip.”

Morty hummed with interest. “Why was he in the wild? I mean, h-he's a guard. So that means his Rick was a guard.”

“It doesn't matter. Stop worrying about it. Look, you just need to focus on helping me get my portal gun back, Morty.”

But Morty couldn't stop worrying. That day was another of hard battling, and Guard Morty once again maintained strict discipline in every move he made. His Rick wasn't dead, Morty was sure. Somehow, Guard Morty did remember that he was abandoned, and it boiled Morty's blood to imagine a Rick doing something like that. And the more he watched Guard Morty let himself get smacked around at Rick's command, the more he wanted to deck Rick. Maybe Rick was right; it would be better if Guard Morty didn't remember everything. When they returned to the hotel that evening, Rick took off for one of the many Citadel bars, saying he needed a drink after watching his Mortys suck all day. Most of the Mortys blew off Rick's typical ridicule easily enough as they retreated to their personal spots. Morty flopped onto the couch, arms stretched over the back of it. But Guard Morty remained standing at attention, facing the door.

“What's wrong?” Morty asked.

Guard Morty shook his head. “Rick's disappointed. I-I kept screwing up today.”

Morty sat up. “Man, you gotta stop caring about what he thinks. He bitches about everything we do. There's no stopping it, so you just gotta say screw him, y'know?”

“I don't know how to stop caring about that. Don't you get scared?”

“Of what?” Morty asked.

“That… Rick might stop wanting you.”

“Aw man,” Morty groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. He couldn't bear the sadness on this kid's face. In his words. In the way he fought. “Look, y-you can't think like that. Trust me, Rick isn't worth it. H-he's an asshole. And I mean, even then he's not going to abandon you.”

Guard Morty looked at him solemnly. Morty hated it. He stood, putting his hands on Guard Morty's shoulders. He tried to give him a smile. “M-maybe you should focus on something else. I could go in the other room if you needed to, y'know, clear your mind.”

Morty would have never expected the blank expression from another Morty, and suddenly he felt very awkward. It was the nervous way that Morty's hands coiled away from his shoulders, the way his smile wavered in fear of giving an explanation, that made Guard Morty blush in realization.

“O-oh,” he stammered, arms wrapping around his torso. He looked down. “I-it's been a while since I… Heh.”

“That's not something I'd expect from myself,” Morty said, grinning with amusement at their shared awkwardness.

Guard Morty laughed. “No kidding.”

Then they were both laughing. There was absurdity and embarrassment in the transparency between them.

“Is that why you didn't wanna share a bed?” Guard Morty asked with a smirk, and Morty smacked his shoulder.

“Mm. Maybe.” The laughter was refreshing, and Morty enjoyed seeing Guard Morty in a better mood.

Guard Morty laced his fingers together thoughtfully under his chin, the leather gloves groaning. “If you think about it, i-it's not like it would matter. If we did that stuff around each other, I mean.”

“What? N-no way! I mean, it'd be too weird.”

“Why?” Guard Morty asked. “We're basically the same person. Even if we helped each other, it'd still basically be masturbation.”

Morty couldn't argue. He pretty much agreed. “I've never… with another person.”

“Do you want to?”

Maybe it was hormones that made Morty succumb to the offer for sexual contact, because Morty easily stepped closer, slipping his hands under Guard Morty's coat and sliding them over his shoulders. It was strange to look at his own face glowing with nervous desire in front of him. Guard Morty swallowed, his pupils large in his brown eyes. There was something about the contrast to Guard Morty's usual strictness that made this especially sweet, and Morty wondered if it was egotistical of him to actually be thinking that this other him was cute. He leaned forward, placing his lips gently on the guard's.

Guard Morty sighed and shivered. Morty's hands slid back down his chest, and Guard Morty unhooked the strap at his shoulder, shrugging it off. “Help me,” he whispered.

Morty unbuttoned Guard Morty's jacket, then reached for his belt. When he couldn't quite manage, Guard Morty reached down and unbuckled it, leaving his fly for Morty to unzipped hastily. Guard Morty grabbed Morty's hips and pulled him to the couch, sitting down and pulling Morty on top of him. Morty eagerly undid his jeans and tugged them down, revealing himself. Guard Morty bucked his hips under him to pull his own pants down to his knees, belt buckle clanking. Neither needed help with arousal. The simple kiss had been enough for the both of them.

“H-how should we do this?” Guard Morty asked, tearing Morty's focus away from their identical erections. He wondered if that blushing face was identical to his own as well.

“Maybe,” Morty started, reaching between them, “Like this.” He pressed himself to Guard Morty and wrapped his hand around them. Both boys sighed out when Morty gave a squeeze, and Guard Morty's eyes fluttered closed, his hips raising off the couch. He slid against Morty, and Morty's face flushed anew. Masturbation never felt like this. Guard Morty continued to thrust up, screwing Morty's hand and rubbing hard against his cock, making Morty wince. Thinking of what he'd seen in pornos, Morty worked the thick saliva from the back of his throat and opened his hand, hovering over their erections and letting the spit fall. He quickly slathered them up, and Guard Morty resumed his thrusting. This time, the movements were slick and surprisingly intense, and they both gasped and tensed.

Guard Morty slipped his hands under Morty's jeans, the leather-covered fingers stroking along his hips before cupping his ass. They both felt the twinge Morty's cock gave, and Morty whimpered, grinding into Guard Morty's thrusts. He found himself watching Guard Morty sweetly, grateful to see the way his face had gone so soft and flushed with pleasure. Guard Morty bit his lower lip, his closed eyes screwing tighter. Morty's stomach fluttered. He found himself wishing he could do more for the guard, but the most he could do was slide his free hand up Guard Morty's shirt and caress his side. He wanted more hands just so he could kneed and stroke every bit of stress out of the boy. He started to wonder if this really was _just_ masturbation.

“D-don't slow down,” Guard Morty panted out, his thrusts growing faster.

Morty swallowed and squeezed his hand tighter around their members, pressing into Guard Morty harder as well. He wanted to say something. Something sweet to the guard, but he didn't know what. He couldn't quite bring himself to call out his own name. He dragged his nails lightly on Guard Morty's side, and with unsteady breaths he whispered, “It feels good like this. I-it feels...”

Cracking open his glazed eyes, Guard Morty lifted a hand to Morty's cheek. The material of his glove was cool to his heated flesh. “Shhh,” Guard Morty replied, sliding his thumb into Morty's mouth, gliding along the inside of his cheek. “Don't s-say anything. Just feel. Just feel it.”

With the thumb between his molars, Morty bit down gently, his teeth sinking deliciously into the leather. Guard Morty moaned at that, his eyes fluttering closed once more. Morty's body tingled, bursts dancing in his scalp and stomach, and he too closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling as the guard was.

“Oh jeez,” Guard Morty breathed out, pulling his hand back and throwing his arm over the back of the couch, gripping it. When Morty opened his eyes, he saw Guard Morty's clenched, seething teeth just an instant before the seemingly molten eruption spilled across the head of his own cock. Morty gritted his own teeth, whimpering as he watched his jizz splutter out and mix in the mess Guard Morty was already making. Their sloppy, overzealous grinding caused their rhythm to fall apart, but it barely mattered. They rode out their orgasms as their juices spilled together. Soon, Morty was collapsing beside Guard Morty, both their faces hot and ruddy, heads buzzing.

“Wow,” Guard Morty said, taking a deep, satisfied breath. “Th-thanks, Morty.”

Morty snapped his unfocused eyes to attention. “Uh.. Any time.” And he gave a small smile.

They mopped up with leftover napkins from their store-bought breakfast, and when Guard Morty finished fixing his uniform, he plopped down on the couch beside Morty and rested his head on his shoulder. Morty laughed awkwardly at this, but Guard Morty said, “It's not weird, right? We're basically the same person, right?”

“Of course,” Morty said, and was surprised to realize how much he didn't like hearing that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second and final chapter to my Original Morty/Guard Morty tale. I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> But first, tumblr user minimorty drew a super cute sketch for chapter one. [Check it out here!](http://triplex-tyrant.tumblr.com/post/138998585235/minimorty-triplex-tyrant-triplex-tyrant-a)

The springs of the pullout couch bed squeaked as Guard Morty twisted onto his side and scooted backwards into Morty. Morty's eyes opened to the dark hotel living room when Guard Morty's underwear-clad butt pressed against his sleep-made erection. The back of Guard Morty's head was only a few inches away, and Morty scratched lightly up his tank top, moving his fingers to rake into his hair and scratch the back of his scalp. With a little hum of satisfaction, Guard Morty's bare legs slid back to rub against Morty's.

It had been almost two weeks since they had first been intimate. and practically every night had them coming together to melt away the stresses of the day.

When Morty held his hand on Guard Morty's hip and pressed himself firmly against his butt, they both squirmed and sighed, quietly falling into a rhythmic thrusting. The bed springs' little, high-pitched squeaks used to induce worry in the two that their actions would be overheard, either by one of the other Mortys or by Rick in the bedroom down the hall. But the pure pleasure of each other was all it took to make both boys careless enough. And if anyone ever did hear them, they were never interrupted. Not even now when Guard Morty whined out, “Make me feel good,” as he shoved his ass against Morty's rocking hips.

“OK,” Morty whispered, slipping his hand under the waistband of Guard Morty's briefs, gripping his member, feeling it twitch in his hand. From this angle, he recognized every bump and curve, grateful to know just how to stroke a cock of this design.

Today had been another good day for the Mortys, but the guard had been on the receiving end of Rick's verbal abuse. He hadn't been the only one, but Morty hated to see how hard the guard took it. He wanted to take it all away, and that was his intention as he pumped the cock of the quivering boy against him. “Shh,” Morty soothed, the sweat building on his face as he shoved himself closer to the guard's back, thrusting harder.

Despite the shushing, Guard Morty let out his whimpers, whining in a way that begged Morty for his touch. Every audible sound came out in tiny, cut off hics and squeaks as Guard Morty's body shook and he slammed himself backwards into Morty's humps. He reached back, his fingers curling into Morty's T-shirt with desperation. The springs squeaked more rapidly under them, and Morty started to worry that the guard was too far gone. But maybe he was as well because he couldn't quite bring himself to slow down. They were thudding against each other in a way that was probably ridiculous, but it didn't matter because when Morty felt Guard Morty spill his seed hot over his thumb, Morty instantly shot as well. He gripped, pumping and milking as he grinded through his own explosive orgasm.

Their panting echoed each other as their bodies slowed to a stop. Morty's eyes had closed, his mind ready to drift away once more until Guard Morty pulled his hand out of his underwear, giving it a squeeze before wiping the jizz off with the inside of his tank top. Then Guard Morty hugged Morty's arm to his chest and closed his eyes, and Morty could feel his smile in the way he wiggled close.

 

Going through the Citadel's randomizing portal the next morning brought the party to a rocky cave. They'd been to worlds like this before: cities developed underground in large, tunneling systems. Rick was pleased with the skilled trainers here. He planned to take on the next Council member tomorrow. Ricktiminus Sancheziminius, a snobbish Rick who considered a stubbly beard and a grown out power donut the height of style. But with him being the penultimate Council member, Rick was smart enough to expect a real challenge, which was why he planned to use this day to whip his other fighters into the shape he prided himself for crafting Guard Morty into.

“You don't need me to fight, Rick?” Guard Morty asked, at attention as always when speaking to Rick.

“Just stay psyched for tonight,” Rick replied, his attention already floating away to a trainer down the road.

Guard Morty remained at attention until Rick and the other Mortys had passed, falling into step beside Morty at the end of the line. Morty smiled warmly, glad to walk with his bed mate for once.

“This is nice,” Morty said, and worried when Guard Morty maintained his upright marching, stern face watching the front of the line. “Uh, d-did you sleep OK last night?” Morty asked.

“Yes,” he replied simply, and Morty frowned. There were still times he felt too distant from Guard Morty, and even at the back of the line, Guard Morty still stayed on duty. And even though he wasn't fighting, any time Rick met a challenger and called the team to attention, Guard Morty jumped right up beside Rick, eager to be utilized.

This was how the day went. Fight after fight. Until Rick's mood had gone from fired up to irritated and annoyed. Rick rubbed his hand roughly on his face. “Th-th-this is just ridiculous,” he grumbled at his now exhausted and nearly dazed Mortys. The opponent's Mortys were tough, but they wouldn't have been such a challenge had Rick's team not already been going at it intermittently for the past two hours. He looked to the guard. “Get in there and fix this mess.”

“Yes sir,” Guard Morty replied quickly, already stepping forward. The Morty he faced was a Frozen Morty with a cold glare that matched the intensity of his own. Frozen Morty came on fast, a jagged ball of ice building around his fist. The guard quickly shot his arm up in defense, and the icy fist exploded on contact, coating the area in powder. It settled, and Morty winced to see the guard's coat sleeve torn and bloody. Guard Morty, however, didn't seem to mind.

He was quick to slip his arm around Frozen Morty's, locking him in place. Guard Morty's counter strike was immediate as he shot his fingertips forward, striking Frozen Morty's throat and shocking him so that when Guard Morty released his arm, he fell to the ground.

On his back, Frozen Morty snarled at the guard. Then he lifted his arm and swiped through the air, sending shards of ice flying toward Guard Morty, who quickly ducked to the side before rising and throwing himself down on his opponent. The sound of his elbow smashing into Frozen Morty's face echoed off the cave walls, and this paired with Rick's obnoxious cheering and the way Guard Morty rose silently to his feet, caused Morty to feel a weight like stones in his stomach.

Rick shouted mockery at the trainer, bragging and jeering until he couldn't think of anything new. The four-armed alien let out a gargle of distaste as he led his dazed Mortys down the cave. Rick turned to Guard Morty and gave his shoulder a few heavy pats. “That's what I like to see. Y-you really wiped the floor with that, th-that other Morty.”

Guard Morty's face glowed with the effort of the battle, and his smile seemed to radiate for a moment before he pulled it back to something more conservative. “A-any time, Rick. I'm happy to fight for you.”

“OK,” Rick said simply, his attention already lost. “Alright. Back to it.”

The party continued forward, and Guard Morty stood back until he was walking with Morty again. “You OK?” Morty asked.

A small smile lingered on Guard Morty's lips, and he gave a small nod. Morty looked ahead again, surprised when he felt the guard's gloved fingers touch the backs of his. Morty peeked for only a moment before staring forward again, his face heating up against an automatic grin, and he turned his hand to allow Guard Morty's to slide in. At the back of the line, they walked hand in hand.

Returning to the Citadel that evening, a pleasant mood permeated the hotel. Rick had retreated to his bedroom, leaving the Mortys with a pleased dismissal. They had fought battle after battle till exhaustion, but also with promise for a successful fight with Ricktiminus tomorrow. The Mortys spent the first half of the evening watching television in the hotel living room. Mermaid Morty was the first to grow bored, deciding to venture down to the hotel's pool. Test X72 went along. He couldn't swim, but he could rest and float on the shifting water. Morty hoped the Shadow one would leave. He was strange and quiet, and his presence caused a heavy silence that meant that Morty couldn't do or say the things he would in private with Guard Morty.

Finally, after a half hour of that stiff silence, Shadow Morty wandered off to his favorite spot on the balcony, the sliding door and vertical blinds cutting him off from the living room. Before Morty could even speak his first words, Guard Morty bumped against him on the couch and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Morty laughed, cheeks heating. “What's with you?” he asked, playfully nudging him with his elbow.

“It was a good day. I can't be happy on a good day?”

Morty grinned and put his hands on either side of Guard Morty's face. “I'm relieved. You deserve a good day.” Morty closed his eyes and pressed his nose to the guard's, rubbing it.

With a laugh, Guard Morty shoved Morty away. “W-what's with the mushy junk?”

Morty felt embarrassed, but he looked at Guard Morty sternly. “I care about you,” he said. “Morty. Y'know, I guess I worry about you.”

“I appreciate it, but you really shouldn't. I'm just following the orders of the Rick I was assigned to. It's… i-it's what I was trained for.”

Something twisted in Morty's stomach. “You scared me today.”

“I'm sorry,” Guard Morty said with a shrug.

Morty grunted. “Do you even care that you worried me?'

“I don't even know what I did.”

“B-because of how you fought with that Frozen Morty. It was kinda intense. I just… don't want you getting yourself messed up just cause Rick gets so excited when you fight.”

Guard Morty let out a relieved sigh, shaking his head before smirking at Morty. “Is that all?”

Morty slapped his hands to his forehead. “W-what do you mean, is that all?! I don't want you to get hurt, dammit.”

“I… I thought you were weird about me holding your hand before.”

Morty was stunned, then he barked with laughter. “Are you serious? That… that made me happy.”

Guard Morty eyed Morty, then looked down, smiling again. “Good. Me, too.”

They both laughed a little nervously, but happily. Morty placed a cautious hand on Guard Morty's knee. “I wasn't sure you really wanted me near you. The truth is, I think I really like you, Morty.”

Guard Morty stared at Morty. “Do… Do you really mean that?”

Morty squeezed his knee. “Yes. I-is that weird? Like, I know we're basically the same person. But we're not really.”

“Morty,” the guard said, taking hold of Morty's hand. “I don't want you to worry about me when I'm fighting. I already made up my mind. Whatever Rick asks me to do, I'll do it. So I don't want you to worry.” Guard Morty's hand trembled, and when Morty looked in his eyes, he saw a rawness there. “I don't want you to, but…” Guard Morty threw his hands around Morty, pressing cheek to cheek as he croaked out, “I'm really glad you do. Is… is that bad? It's selfish.”

Morty wrapped his arms around him. When he shook his head, their cheeks mushed together, hot and comforting. “Not at all,” Morty said, laughing even though his body felt like spilling the tears he knew Guard Morty held in. “It's not like I could stop even if I wanted to.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“Why not?”

“Because I,” Morty said, blushing now. “I want you to be happy.”

Guard Morty pulled away, taking Morty's face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his lips. Morty barely let the guard pull away before pulling him back in for more. Plump lips pressed together, and Guard Morty melted at Morty's fingertips playing at the back of his neck. Hands clasped at whatever they could as little tongues twirled together. Morty's hand found its way to gripping up Guard Morty's thigh, and Guard Morty rocked his hips, mewling into Morty's open mouth.

The sound of Rick's bedroom door shutting down the hall caused the boys to jerk apart, both assuming an upright posture that barely suited Guard Morty right now and definitely didn't suit Morty. Rick passed by and into the conjoining kitchen, pulling a bottle from the fridge and turning to look between the clearly stunned Mortys and the unfamiliar sitcom droning on the TV.

“W-whatcha watchin'?” Rick asked.

Guard Morty's tendency for immediate response led him to reply with an aimless “W-uhh. Umm.”

“TV,” Morty replied snidely.

Rick glared back for only a second before tottering back for the hallway. “Wha-uuur-tever, you smartass little shit,” he muttered before shutting himself back in the bedroom.

Guard Morty buried his heated face in his hands and groaned, but Morty couldn't help but laugh.

That had been a good evening. The same could not be said, however, for the next day.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Rick yelled at the Mortys lined up in front of the Healing Center. “I mean w-w-what the Hell was that?! How many times in a row can you miss an opponent without eyes?!”

The fight against Ricktiminus had been a close one, but losing blinded Rick to any skill his team had shown. It was Text X72 who spoke first.

“We'll be prepared now. We won't lose next time.”

“We didn't have to lose _this_ time!” Rick snapped. “I swear, I don't even know why I keep some of you.”

He looked each Morty up and down, performance reviews running in his head, a calculated threat to each one. Most of the Mortys knew how to let Rick's criticism roll off their backs, but when that gaze fell on Guard Morty, he buckled.

“Ahh, I'm sorry, Rick,” Guard Morty said. “I don't know what happened.”

“How did you let the guy get the jump on you? I thought you were trained for stuff like this.”

“I-it won't happen again. I swear.”

“You better,” Rick sneered. “I mean what's the point of having you around if you're not even good for anything?”

Morty moved over to step halfway in front of Guard Morty. “Lay off, Rick,” he said.

Rick rolled his eyes. “Ooh, l-look at you, Morty. Steppin' in like s-some sort of hero. Chivalrous hero over here.”

“It was just one fight. We all got knocked out in the end, so don't take it all out on Guard Morty just cause you know he actually cares about doing this stupid game.”

Rick had pulled his flask out and downed a quarter of it. He wiped his slimy lips and belched. “No, you're right, Morty. You should all be equally ashamed. That's… is a really good point.” He slipped his flask back in his coat pocket and waved as he turned around. “I don't wanna look at any of you right now. Dismissed or wh-uuur-atever.”

Guard Morty pushed past Morty and grabbed Rick's arm. “Wait! Let me make it up to you. Please.”

Rick grunted and pulled his arm away. “Dismissed, Morty” he said, then walked off down the road.

It didn't take long for the other Mortys to shrug the incident off and wander away. If Rick was done for the day, they figured they might as well enjoy themselves. Morty stayed, watching Guard Morty hold his aching gut. Morty put a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on. Let's go somewhere else.”

Guard Morty shook his head. “I don't feel like going anywhere.”

“Then, let's just go back to the hotel.”

“I'll go,” Guard Morty said, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. “You go have fun with the others. I just n-need a little bit.”

Morty grabbed the guard's arm and pulled him into a hug. “I couldn't have fun with you like this. Let me take care of you. Let me… let me hold you. Whatever you need, I'm right here.”

Guard Morty turned in Morty's hold to face him. “Really?”

Morty smiled, though his heart hurt for the other Morty. “Yeah. Screw Rick.”

Guard Morty pressed into Morty, chest to chest as he clutched his back. “Be with me,” he said, his voice a rough whisper. Morty readily complied.

The two walked quickly to the hotel. Once there, Morty made a move for the couch, but was held back by Guard Morty's hand on his. “In here,” Guard Morty said, pulling Morty down the hall and into Rick's room.

The room smelled thick of booze. The trashcan was full of empty bottles, and the bed was a mess. The rest of the room, however, was mostly untouched and preserved. Guard Morty locked the door and Morty shivered. Still, revenge in the form of getting it on in Rick's bed, replacing some of the Rick smell with one of their own, sounded like a suiting and enjoyable venture. Morty was going to share this sentiment, but was caught by surprise to see the guard already hastily stripping down.

Pulling his black top off and dropping it to the floor with the rest of his uniform, Guard Morty's eyes landed on Morty's. The hurt clouded into desire, and he hooked his thumbs in the waist band of his briefs. “I need you,” the guard said, pulling his underwear down.

Morty licked his lips and nodded. It was the first time he'd seen Guard Morty completely unclothed. His body, rather than scrawny like Morty's, was lean and hinting muscles. Morty quickly disrobed as well, and Guard Morty stepped past him to sit on the side of the bed.

When Morty stepped between the guard's legs, Guard Morty slid his arms around his waist, olive skin on olive skin. Guard Morty looked up, and Morty still saw so much pain in his darkened eyes. He cupped his cheek and kissed his lips so sweetly that Guard Morty shivered.

“What do you want me to do?” Morty asked.

“I want you in me,” Guard Morty replied, and Morty blushed.

“Y-yeah?” His hesitant fingers danced on Guard Morty's upper arms. His cock twitched at the idea. “I dunno. Are you sure?”

Guard Morty grunted. “Yes! Yes!” he snapped, sliding off the bed and onto his knees. He gripped Morty's hips. “I need you to fuck me.”

Morty put a hand on Guard Morty's head, ready to step back and let the boy settle down. But when Guard Morty slid his hot, wet mouth down on Morty's erection, his mind clouded over. Guard Morty's head rolled as he sucked with ardor, and the fingers on his head curled jerkily into his curly locks.

Guard Morty's tongue swirled around Morty's head, wet and deliberate, between juicy gulps that brought Guard Morty's reddened lips to the base. Morty shivered where he stood, swallowing back his surprised gasps. He wanted to burn the memory of Guard Morty on his knees, taking him in his mouth, into his mind. Guard Morty pulled off, a strand of saliva trailing from his mouth to the head of his penis. The strand broke and landed on Guard Morty's chin, and he wiped it with the back of his hand as he stood up. He sat back on the bed, laying back and planting his feet on the edge, knees wide apart. “Do me,” he said with such seriousness, as though he might go crazy if Morty didn't enter him right away. So Morty stepped closer, planting his hands on the guard's knees. The way Guard Morty was looking up at him, hungry for him, drove Morty to comply. He positioned himself at Guard Morty's entrance and pushed against it. Guard Morty hissed.

“D-does it hurt?” Morty asked.

Guard Morty clenched the messy comforter at his sides and shook his head. “No.”

So Morty pushed on, feeling the tip of his head breaching the impossibly tight ring. And when Guard Morty let out a pained whimper, Morty stopped again, his dick hating him for it. “Are you sure it doesn't hurt? I think we should be using lube or something.”

“I don't care,” Guard Morty hissed, wriggling to push himself deeper.

Any protests Morty had were lost in the guard as he buried his member deep inside. His fingers gripped the guard's knees, sweat building on his brow. Both their faces were hot, and when Morty made his first tiny thrust, they both panted out. Guard Morty's eyes slammed shut against the feeling inside of him, and he weakly pulled the blanket to the side of his face, letting it cool him. Morty quivered as he rocked his hips, feeling the skin dragging wonderfully along him. Watching the way that Guard Morty tossed his head to the side, hiding it cutely in the blanket, sent Morty's stomach buzzing. He wanted to melt Guard Morty's hurt away and bring him to pleasure. He wanted to do it every day until the guard was nothing but tingles and euphoria. He wanted to fuck him to happiness.

Guard Morty's eyes opened, and he released his hold on the cover, his hands moving to take hold of Morty's. Morty slowed to a stop, watching Guard Morty take his hands off his knees, letting Guard Morty pull them toward his face. But when Guard Morty pressed Morty's fingertips to his neck, Morty pulled them back.

“What's wrong?” Guard Morty asked with heavy breaths.

“I… I dunno if I wanna do that,” Morty admitted.

“Please. I want you to. Please, Morty.”

He couldn't deny him. Carefully, Morty placed his hands very lightly on Guard Morty's neck, and Guard Morty slid his own over top, leading Morty to hold him. With difficulty, Morty squeezed the guard's throat, his stomach swirling when Guard Morty swallowed and the strain rocked his thumbs. But then Guard Morty squeezed tight around Morty's aching cock, and something akin to relief crossed Guard Morty's red face. So Morty rocked into him once again.

Both boys panted, Guard Morty's moans turning thin in his constricted throat. The boozey scent of the room was lost to what they were creating in each other. Morty wanted to drown in it, and leaning over Guard Morty now, he could almost taste him. Wanted to taste him. He leaned closer, letting his hands fall away from Guard Morty's neck. He had left a red mark, so he kissed it, then ran his tongue against the sweaty skin.

“Oh,” Guard Morty moaned, quivering and turning his head to open himself up more to Morty's mouth. He bundled the comforter against his face, muffling his heavy breaths in it.

Morty kissed and licked lovingly. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer, but he didn't want this to end. “Morty,” he mumbled into the guard's neck. He needed to say something. “I think I… ah, I-I wanna be with you. W-wanna take care of you. Forever.”

“Hm-mm,” Guard Morty whined into the blanket, and his body jerked.

“I don't want you to get hurt,” Morty continued, his thrusts quickening as he came so close to losing himself. He pressed his forehead to Guard Morty's cheek, both sweaty. “I love you.”

At that, Guard Morty planted both hands on Morty's chest and pushed. “No!” he exclaimed, pushing Morty off and sitting up.

Morty stumbled back, a feeling of dread overcoming him. “W-what? What's wrong?”

“Th-that's not right! Rick wouldn't say that!”

Now it felt like Morty had hands pressing down on _his_ throat. His mouth fell open. “Rick?!” His eyes burned.

Guard Morty shook his head. “Don't be like that, Morty. We both said this was just masturbation.”

Morty rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand. His stomach hurt. “But I...”

“I'm sorry. I wasn't sure you were really starting to… I thought we both still felt the same way about this.”

“But Rick! Why?”

Guard Morty pulled the comforter to his lap, rubbing it in his fingers. “He reminds me of my Rick.” He laughed a sad laugh. “You don't have to tell me. I know it's disgusting. But I loved Rick.”

It did disgust Morty. But it mostly made him angry. “Your Rick abandoned you. H-how can you like a Rick like that?”

“He had his reason.”

“To leave you in the fucking wild?!”

Guard Morty looked at him as if he had yelled in another language. “He left me at the Reassignment Center. That's how I got assigned to your Rick.”

Morty rolled his eyes. “You don't even remember.” He grabbed his clothes and started to dress.

“W-what don't I remember?”

“What actually happened when your Rick abandoned you,” Morty said, throwing his shirt on before zipping his pants.

Guard Morty let out a dry laugh. “Believe me, I remember _everything_ about my Rick abandoning me. I remember how _disgusted_ he was when I confessed to him. Told him, y'know, I loved him.” His voice cracked. “I remember how he said that we were guards, and we had to have standards. I remember how even though he said we should both forget I ever said anything, he still couldn't s-stand to look at me. So don't you fucking tell me I don't remember. And don't you dare think you're a victim when we agreed that what we were doing was for ourselves.”

Morty stood in silence as Guard Morty walked past to dress himself. “I guess we won't be doing this again,” Guard Morty said.

“I… I wanted to take care of you,” Morty said, distantly and unable to face the other. “I didn't want to let Rick hurt you.”

“I'm going out.”

“Where to?”

“To look for Rick.”

Now Morty did turn. “Why Rick? He's and old asshole. And also, y-your grandfather.”

“Don't ask for an explanation,” Guard Morty groaned, straightening his jacket. “I messed up with my last Rick, but now I have this one. I keep thinking, m-maybe he'll love me. Please don't tell.”

Morty scowled. “Everyone wants me to keep these secrets. But guess what. Rick isn't even your Rick. Yeah. You weren't assigned to him. We found you in the wild, and Rick only wanted you to help him beat the Council.”

“You keep saying I was in the wild. I've only ever been there with Rick. Our Rick.”

“The chip must be making it so you don't remember.” Morty tapped his own temple. “It's how Rick made you think he was your Rick. They're doing it to all the abandoned Mortys for their stupid game.”

Guard Morty looked a little scared now. “Th-that's insane.”

“After Rick beats the Council and gets his portal gun back, I dunno what he'll do with the rest of you, but you probably shouldn't get your hopes up. This is a _Rick_ we're talking about here.” Morty walked to the door. “Don't tell Rick I told you about the chip, and I won't tell him about your… feelings for him.”

With that, Guard Morty was alone. For a while, he just stood. It couldn't be true. He remembered. He remembered Rick dropping him off. And _this_ Rick picking him up. And between that… Between that….

He walked to the bed and lifted the cover to his face. Rick's smell. He could get lost in it. Without Rick, he felt lost.

His head hurt, but he was afraid to feel. Gripping Rick's blanket in his right hand, he lifted his left to his head, fingers trailing the hairline until they ran over something slick, jutting out just barely.

Guard Morty felt dizzy. He left Rick's room and went to the bathroom, closing the door. He didn't want to look in the mirror, but he did. And there was the chip, almost flush against his skin. Shivering fingers picked at the chip, and when they couldn't get a hold, Guard Morty felt a panic coming over him. Frantically, he looked around the bathroom for something, anything, to pry the chip out. In a drawer, he found Rick's travel pack, and he dumped the contents in the sink. His fingers felt distant as they grasped for the dental sickle probe.

Guard Morty stuck the metal hook to the edge of the chip, pushing it into his skin. He pried back and forth, working the tool against the chip and causing blood to trail down the instrument and down his hand. Finally, he got the chip pried away on one side, then used the probe and his fingers to pull it out. Little wires like insect legs gave the final tear to his flesh, and the bloody chip beeped from green to red to black before Guard Morty dropped it and the dental probe in the sink.

Rick had found him in the wild, and made Mermaid Morty attack him. Then he chipped him. _“...shouldn't let him around another Rick until we fix him.” “Let me play with his brain. I bet I can fix the little creep.”_ He had run away. Got out of the Reassignment Center before some Ricks who didn't even know him could fry his brain. He used the portal in the Citadel, not knowing where he would go.

All the memories at once were dizzying, and Guard Morty barely got the toilet's lid open before he vomited into it. He flushed and flopped to the floor, his bleary eyes unfocused on the bloodied hand in front of his face.

 

In the living room, Morty sat in the corner of the couch. The TV played, but Morty wasn't focused on it. He was going back and forth between feeling guilty for telling Guard Morty about his chip and feeling proud for it. But mostly, he just wished the whole conversation never happened.

When Guard Morty went out the door, neither he nor Morty acknowledged the other. Guard Morty was familiar with the Citadel's night life, and it didn't take long to find which bar Rick was at. It was a lake-side bar by one of the Rick-made lakes. The tables were scattered out in the open air between the lake and the bar itself, which was covered in a blue awning. Rick sat at the bar, and Guard Morty slipped into the empty stool next to him.

“Hey Rick,” he said.

Rick turned to him in surprise. “H-hey Morty,” he said. “What… what are you doing here?”

“I'm still so sorry for screwing up earlier. I really do wish I could make it up to you.”

Rick nodded slowly, distracted by the clenched fist Guard Morty had rested on the bar. In the dim lighting, it took Rick a moment to figure out what was staining it. When he realized it was dried blood, he grabbed his arm and turned it over. “What the fuck did you do to yourself?” he barked, though he found no wounds.

Guard Morty smirked and opened his hand. The blown, cracked chip sitting in the center of his palm. When Rick's eyes darted to his, Guard Morty turned his head to show the wound above his left temple, where the blood had trickled and dried just above his cheek. Rick took a sharp intake of breath, but had no words to yell.

“I was mad at first,” Guard Morty said, “cause it felt like I was being used. But, in a way, it's better than being assigned because you chose me.”

“Morty told you, didn't he?”

Guard Morty pulled Rick's hand off his arm, holding it. “Don't be mad at him.”

Rick chuckled. “Don't be mad at your boyfriend?” Guard Morty dropped his hand, eyes wide, and Rick smirked. “Don't look shocked, kid. Look who you're talking to.” He took a drink. “So what now? A-are ya gonna try to run away before I staple another chip to your head? You know that's what I'm gonna do, right?”

Guard Morty pinched Rick's sleeve. His eyes glistened, though no tear dared to fall. “Can we go s-somewhere private, Rick?”

The two relocated to an unoccupied side of the lake. Rick had wiped the guard's head and placed a square bandage on his wound, and Guard Morty splashed his hands in the lake to clean them. The busted chip sat between them.

“I wanna make a deal,” Guard Morty said, sitting up and shaking his hands off.

“Oh yeah?”

“And I know there's nothing forcing you to even consider what I say, but hear me out anyway. I'll stay on your team if you still want me, but I want something, you know, f-for me.”

Guard Morty clenched his fists in his lap and swallowed before leaning in and resting his head on Rick's shoulder. Rick cleared his throat purposefully, but otherwise let the guard be. “What is it you want?” Rick asked. “Who knows. Maybe I'll give it to you.”

“Tell me it's OK. F-for me to feel this way about you. And maybe… m-maybe if I work hard for you, you could fall in love with me, too. Even if my original Rick never could.”

Rick gritted his teeth and shrugged Guard Morty off. “Shit, Morty,” he said quietly. “Does my Morty know you're talking to me about this?”

Guard Morty shook his head, then made a noise that might have been a laugh if not for the tear that finally rolled down his right cheek. “B-but, he said he wanted me to be happy.”

 

At the hotel, Morty lay on the couch waiting for Guard Morty to come home. When he did, he was going to wrap his arms around him and hold him in bed. They'd both forget that earlier ever happened. When the door opened, Morty jumped up. But it was only Rick who came in, and a very sobered Rick at that.

“Morty… We need to talk.”

“We do?”

“Yeah.” Rick moved closer and opened his hand for Morty to see. Morty looked from the chip to Rick, his mouth falling open.

“Is he gone?” Morty asked, taking the chip. Rick nodded, and Morty slumped to the couch. He hung his head, staring at the broken chip. Slowly, Rick sat beside him, placing a hand on his head.

 

*~*~*~

 

A week later, Rick and his Mortys were leaving Salesman Rick's shop, preparing to head out for more training. They still had one more Council member to defeat, and Crazy Cat Morty still needed to catch up to the rest of the team. Morty walked by Rick, listening to him ramble on about beating the Council, but when they came up on a passing Rick and his team, Morty froze.

Right behind the Rick, a Morty in a Council uniform followed. The guard's eyes gleamed at this Rick, and just as he passed by Morty, Morty saw it: just above the guard's left temple sat a chip that didn't quite line up with the rectangular scar underneath.

Rick elbowed Morty, and Morty looked up at him. Once they passed, Morty said, “Do you think he remembers us?”

Rick shrugged. “Come on, Morty. Do yourself a favor and forget about it.”

They walked on. Morty put his hand in his pocket, squeezing the chip there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have asked yourself, where did Guard Morty's gloves go after he got dressed in the bedroom? The answer: in one of his pockets, probably.


End file.
